Anchorage
by hiybbprqag
Summary: n. the desire to hold on to time as it passes, like trying to keep your grip on a rock in the middle of a river, feeling the weight of the current against your chest while your elders float on downstream, calling over the roar of the rapids, "Just let go—it's okay—let go." (c) Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig
**disclaimer:** i do not own kuroko no basuke

Six months have passed since then. Three months were spent on trying to understand why things ended up the way did – broken and bleeding. A month was spent trying to fix and put back together the broken pieces. The remaining months were spent with nearly sleepless nights, sinking feelings and avoiding each other's eyes so they couldn't see how deep they fell and bruised themselves. It didn't help either of them, really. Furihata kept trying to clean his bruises by washing it in activities that he loved, while Akashi kept dabbing ointment on his wounds as he tried to negate the ache in his chest when he immerses himself into the work his father had provided him with. Neither of them cried either. They were both too scared to reach out and take each other's hands, fearing that the other will let go again.

 _"_ _You can always say sorry, Furihata-kun. I cannot blame you for what you did," Kuroko sips his tea, then looks intro broken brown orbs. "But the real apology is when you hear the sadness in his voice and see the look in his eyes, and you realize that he has hurt himself just as much."_

Furihata keeps a tally of how many times he doesn't tell Akashi how frustrated he is with how things are turning out, and a count of how many times he cried himself to sleep just to hope that the following day would be better. He sometimes genuinely thinks things have been progressing well, but on most occasions, it usually is the same routine over and over again—Furihata just tries to make himself believe that he can make their relationship work out better.

After collecting all his courage into a cup of coffee and chugging it down in one go, Furihata walks into their living room and feels the instant change in room temperature. Akashi was on the phone, yelling— no, hissing— at whoever is on the opposite line. When the conversation ended, Akashi faced his laptop and tore away at the keys, forehead creased and Furihata could almost hear his teeth grating. In an attempt to calm Akashi down, Furihata started to massage Akashi's tense shoulders. Akashi's frown deepened. "Not now, Kouki. I'm working."

"I know, but you looked so tense, so I—"

"Please, Kouki. _Not now._ "

Furihata's head throbbed as if the caffeine from the coffee was suddenly and rapidly surging to his brain, causing all the pent up emotions and frustration to suddenly erupt like a volcano. "Then _when_ , Akashi? _When?_ "

In anger, Furihata closed Akashi's laptop so that he had the red-head's full attention, and despite the deadly glare of those heterochromatic eyes, Furihata stood firmly, finding a resolve he never knew he had. "You rarely take the time off and you come home either late or tired, so we don't get to spend as much time together! You hardly ever talk to me, and when I make an attempt, you always brush me off! I know you're busy and I can understand that. What I can't understand is why you can't find time in your schedule to relax or to spend time with me and your friends, but can find time to squeeze in meetings or events or have drinks with business partners!"

"It's my job, Kouki! It's my responsibility as the heir to the Akashi Corporation, and don't I make up for those nights by giving you presents? I always make sure to message you if events suddenly come up, so I don't understand why you're acting so immature!"

The throbbing in his head became stronger, and the corners of his eyes were starting to darken. "I'm not the immature one here, Akashi! Do you think gifts can replace your presence—can replace you? Cause if it can, I would carry all those gifts with me all the time because I'll know the gifts will always be there when I need them and they'll only leave me when _I_ decide to move them. Then I wouldn't have to go through the process of missing you!"

Furihata's heart hurts with every word that leaves his mouth, but when he looks into Akashi's eyes, something seems to have replaced that confident and authoritative look he always wore. It made Akashi look vulnerable.

" _Why am I fighting with you? I don't want to fight you,"_ but Furihata couldn't stop the words from rapidly flowing out of his mouth. "I know you message me! I read the same message almost over and over again! Do you know how scared I've gotten when I see your name popped up on the screen because maybe this time, you'll be telling me that you won't be coming home _at all!_ Sometimes I don't want to bother reading your messages because I know you'll just be telling me that something came up again and that you can't avoid it, so you'll be coming home late _again_! But I still read it every single time!" He was breathing heavily know, resisting the urge to completely break down right in front of the man he's loved for so long, but the sob still escapes Furihata's lips.

"I still read it every time because I keep hoping that you'll tell me that you're on your way home! That maybe I won't have to wrap the food I made for us in foil and keep it in the fridge because you'll be eating it! I read it every day because I keep hoping that you realize work won't cook your meals, or massage your back, or play basketball, or be there for you when you need help, or tell you every time that they love you! Work won't take care of you, Akashi! But you seem to value it more than the people who can actually do all the things work can't!"

Furihata for the first time realized how tense his body was, how tired his eyes were, and how much weight his shoulders harbored from keeping all his emotions locked up inside. He wished Akashi would explain. He wished that Akashi would ease his problems, that this was just a temporary thing and that he was doing it for them—that he puts so much effort into his job for them, but Furihata was met with a heavy silence. He never once broke their eye contact and he didn't want to cry, but the tears still fell. His heart still broke. Furihata couldn't look Akashi in the eye anymore. He spoke so softly, choking on tears. " _Why,_ Akashi? _Why?_ I don't understand! I try to, but I can't anymore! And it's all too much! It hurts too much, Akashi! You're never around, so I'm always alone. I don't want to be alone."

The room was filled with Furihata's sobs and sniffles and hiccups, but when the brunette was finally able to regain his breath, he wiped away the tearstains on his cheeks and smiled at the red-head, eyes pooling with brand new tears. "I want to try to understand again, but I can't right now. I'm _too tired_ , Akashi. So are you. So let's take a break, yeah? Then when we have things sorted out, we can try again."

Akashi's eyes glossed over, completely losing its dangerous gleam, leaving the all too broken human side of the red-head. But brown eyes can't—won't—look into heterochromatic ones. Furihata doesn't say anything anymore and leaves the room because he know that if he stays and meets Akashi's gaze, what's left of his resolve will break and he's already too broken that picking up the pieces will be to tiresome.

 _"_ _I won't say sorry, Kuroko." Furihata stares into his drink. "You only say sorry when you regret the things you've done, and I don't regret mine. But that doesn't mean I didn't understand that he's hurting too. Honestly, I wish I could fix this quicker, but do you know how sad and difficult it is to pick yourself up accepting the fact that you aren't as important as you thought you were?"_

 _Miserable brown orbs met pale blue ones._

 _"_ _And he was able to make me believe that I was so important."_

 **note:**

so, what do you guys think? feedbacks are very much appreciated.

this is probably only a two-chaptered fic, but there is a forty percent chance (lol) that i might add additional chapters.


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